This paper considers the interplay of Latin and Greek in the workings of both State and Church in sixth-century Constantinople, and the way that these two languages are represented in the written records of each. The richest source of evidence is provided by the Acts of the Church Councils and Synods, because at the end of a session, or of a multi-authored document, it was the custom for those involved to make a one-sentence statement of assent in their own handwriting. These processes also leave room for reflections of the use of Syriac (but not for items of actual Syriac text), but of no other language.

This article argues that Oration 1 by Themistius was prompted by violence at Constantinople in 341–2, and that the likeliest date for the speech is as early as March 342. Detailed arguments are presented in support of this correlation, which contrasts with the usual assignment of Themistius' speech to either 347/348 or 350/351. The wider significance of these arguments is also highlighted. In particular, there are implications for our understanding of the chronology and overall trajectory of Themistius' early career; and implications for the development of imperial ideology in the 340s.

A Roman funerary monument was found in 1970 in the area of ancient Corinth, in a part of the village called Kranion (κράνιον), where no other finds have yet been made. Eventually it was acquired by the Corinth Museum, where it now stands in the portico of the courtyard.

The following dedications are for the most part written in Greek, and made to a god who bears apparently a Greek name; but their value lies mainly in the light that they throw upon the circumstances and fate of a Roman colony in a land where the educated spoke Greek, though the uneducated rural population long retained the use of the Phrygian language. Various writers have spoken about the inevitable fate of such a small settlement of colonists originally speaking Latin. They melted gradually into the surrounding population. After a certain lapse of years they lost the Latin language, and adopted Greek. The evidence for this formerly was fragmentary; but in the series of dedications at the Sanctuary an opportunity is offered of studying the process as it evolved itself through the centuries.

In speeches delivered during the years 57–55 B.C. Cicero frequently mentions the events and transactions immediately preceding his banishment. Clodius, the tribune of the year 58, was the author of all the trouble, and Clodius is the target of his passionate attacks. Here as elsewhere Cicero shows himself a virtuoso in the technique of variation, ever changing the venue of his accusations. Yet one complaint is constantly reiterated—Clodius's abrogation of the Lex Aelia Fufia. The following pages are devoted to an investigation of the fate of that law, for lack of which many of the events of this crowded period remain incomprehensible.

In Deuteronomy Rabba Ki Teze section 2, (ed. S. Liebermann, p. 103) we read the following passage: ‘R. Abba b. Kahana said: …. It is like unto a king who hired for himself workers and put them into his orchard, without revealing to them the wages for looking after the orchard, so that they should not pay no attention to that for which they would be paid little and concern themselves only with that for which they would be paid much. In the evening he called for each of them. He said to the first, “Under which tree did you work ?” The worker replied, “Under the pepper-tree.” “The rate for this one is one gold piece (= aureus),” [said the King]. He called to the second and asked him, “Beneath which tree did you work ?” “Under that one,” he replied. He (the King) said, “This is a perach-lavan tree [literally, a white-flower tree], and the rate for it is half a gold piece.” He called the last one and said to him, “Under which tree did you work ?” “Under this one,” he answered. “It is an olive-tree, and its rate is two hundred mana.”’

Since in this parable we begin with one gold piece and then go down to half a gold piece it would appear likely that the final sum mentioned is a quarter of a gold piece. If this albeit hypothetical supposition be accepted then it follows that ¼ aureus = 200 mana, ∴ 1 aureus = 800 mana.

At the outset the question may well be raised whether there is any real justification for the inclusion of a paper on such a theme in the programme of a Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies. Is Byzantine civilisation—in any true sense of the word—Roman at all? To judge from not a few modern studies of the life of the East Roman Empire, the answer to that question could only be in the negative. Take what is perhaps the best known brief presentment of Byzantine history—that of Professor Diehl of Paris—and the reader will not long be left in doubt. The preface proclaims the character of the Empire: Byzantium very quickly became, and was essentially, an oriental monarchy. In the sixth century, before Justinian's accession, one could well believe that the dream of a purely oriental empire was near its realisation.

In the settlement of Greece after the Third Macedonian War Roman policy was at times moderate, at times harsh. On occasion the difference might represent only an individual point of view: thus the terms imposed upon Macedonia might seem generous to a Roman who contemplated the grant of ‘freedom’ to the Macedonians, the reduction of taxation and the absence of territorial aggression on Rome's part, while they might equally seem harsh to a Macedonian who felt that his sense of nationhood had been violated by Rome's creation of the four independent Republics. But towards Epirus Roman policy seems to have been marked by two successive stages, the first moderate, the second brutal. It is the purpose of this note to attempt to consider the causes which determined this change and to examine what influence the Epirote Charops exercised upon the measures which turned his country into a playground for Roman brutality and ultimately into an abomination of desolation.

In the course of a paper on ‘Roman Colchester’ in volume ix of this Journal, Mr. Philip Laver and the writer drew attention to the vaults which underlie Colchester castle, and claimed for them a Roman origin. The claim is based primarily upon constructional evidence which is readily appreciated in the presence of the actual remains, but the published summary perhaps requires some amplification for the reader who is unacquainted with these. Until its recent acquisition for the Colchester Corporation, the castle was in private possession, and was only partially known to the public; nor does the mass of literature which has gathered round the structure include any detailed study of its architectural problems. Hence the dark and comparatively barren vaults have hitherto escaped more than passing notice.

This article has no more ambitious purpose than to sow doubt. As an inquiry into the policy of Rome in declaring war on Philip V in 200 B.C., it cannot pretend to be anything but superficial.

In England at least, studies of the question are based nowadays on the brilliant writings of M. Holleaux and the scholarly work of F. W. Walbank and A. H. McDonald, which in the main derives from Holleaux. Within thirty years or so what started as paradox has become respectable orthodoxy—which De Sanctis has resisted, but few others.